Love from Left Field (3 page)

Lucas strode down
the hallway for the executive offices, amazed at Callahan’s stubborn refusal to admit to the problem. First, he ran the team into the ground with delusions of grandeur and unreal expectations. Then, he was too obstinate to accept assistance, after having no problem taking a financial loan from the league. Well, Lucas had dealt with worse. He just needed to find the right leverage. If only Callahan wasn’t so involved in the team. Miranda might be more amenable to changes, provided they could work together.

He hadn’t expected the rush of desire when he’d first seen her. It went well beyond her beauty to the flash of intelligence in her ice blue eyes, the husky timbre of her cool southern accent. He’d felt the irresistible tug of attraction the minute she spoke, her voice shooting sparks of desire into his icy calm. It was rare to deal with a woman at senior levels in baseball; it was still very much a boy’s club. So he never had to deal with being attracted to his colleagues in previous assignments. Hopefully, they could both remain professional and, possibly, work together to get the job done.

Thoughts of Miranda reminded him that she was following him down the hall, her heels clicking on the floor in a rapid staccato beat. Hell, he didn’t even know where he was going. He stopped to let her catch up. Pictures of important people lined the hallway. Seamus Callahan. A couple of players. The last picture stopped Lucas in place. The balding head. The kindly hazel eyes. The gentle smile. His eyes burned as he gazed at the picture of his father.

Miranda stopped next to him, also looking at the picture, lips curved in a small smile. “He always had a praline for me when I came to visit. I wasn’t supposed to have candy. It wasn’t on the pageant diet plan but I loved them. I’d sneak into his office before a game or when Dad was here for a meeting and Uncle Jacob would always stop what he was doing and spend time with me.”

Lucas swallowed thickly. “He always had time for everyone.”

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Wainright? Revenge?” she asked quietly, casting him a sidelong glance.

“Are you questioning my ethics, Ms. Callahan, or my motives?” He countered, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“I would never question your ethics, Mr. Wainright. But clearly your motives are much more complex than simply doing your job for major league baseball.”

“Much more complex indeed.” He turned to face her, a teasing note entering his voice, deflecting the emotion coursing inside. “Since we’ll be working closely over the next few months, shouldn’t you call me Lucas? It’s not like we don’t know each other. We practically grew up together.”

She flushed, her face turning a bright red. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

“You were very cute back then, not at all awkward. I had heard you were Miss Georgia a few years later. Major bragging rights for a young guy, telling his friends he knew a beauty queen.”

She straightened and pursed her lips as if the memory was not as pleasant for her. “That’s in the past. I’ve earned my position.”

“Whoa, princess.” He held up his hands. “I meant no disrespect. You don’t get an MBA if you’re stupid. I only question how much control you really have as president, or do you stand in for your father?”

The answer to the question was critical to his plan. If she was her father’s mouthpiece, then his job would be exponentially harder. However, if he could convert her to his side, then he’d have an ally and a foothold. He stepped closer, crowding her slightly against the wall, intentionally in her personal space.

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped to the side, away from his neat cage, just as she sidestepped his question. “You’ll find that we’re a team here, on and off the field. I’m sure we’ll find a way to work with you, if your ideas make sense. Your office is down this hallway. It’s all I could get ready on such short notice, Mr. Wainright.”

“Lucas.” He didn’t know why it was so important that she called him by his first name but it was. He refused to move, waiting for her.

After several moments, she finally murmured, “Lucas.”

After if her words broke a spell, he started walking in the direction she had indicated. “Excellent. I’m sure it will be fine, Miranda. Let’s get to work.”

He hadn’t missed the sudden flash of attraction in her eyes, just as she put distance between them. He’d have to be very careful working with Miranda.

*

Lucas deliberately ignored
Miranda, perched on the edge of the chair opposite the desk. After their heart-to-heart in the foyer by his father’s portrait, he needed to put space between them to recover some of his senses.

He had been expecting a pampered princess, a mouthpiece for her strong-willed father. His first mistake was expecting her to be the same beauty queen he remembered as a teenager, a little spoiled and pretty but not yet grown into a woman. In the intervening years, she had grown into the promise of the beauty that had been lurking under the teenager, adding a maturity and a brain that was a killer combination in his book.

She had proven her smarts by arguing with her father. Too bad she had backed down when pushed. Not a great beginning. He had hoped he could get her on his side, assuming everyone else was too intimidated by Seamus to argue. But she seemed just as cowed by her father. Now, he’d have to work harder to convince the staff to make necessary changes to truly help the Knights. If they chose not to work with him, then the Knights were doomed.

He glanced at her, sitting ramrod straight, hands folded in her lap. She was studiously ignoring him, stiff, not filling the silence with inane chatter or shifting in her seat. If he hadn’t noticed the telltale quiver in her hands and the downcast eyes, he would have thought she was confident and calm. He frowned and closed the folder.

“So, what do you think?”

She looked up, her gaze steady and sure. “We have troubles, sure. We need to do better. But we’re not a lost cause. Not completely.”

He leaned back and steepled his hands in front of his face. “Do you know what I do? I help teams like yours figure out how to be successful in this new world. There’s always room for improvement. In your case, you need to find a way to be profitable and not lose more money.”

“Fine. But you also recommend sales of teams if they don’t meet your standards, and you lay people off without considering the impacts.” She smiled, an almost predatory look. “Yes, I had you researched before you came. I wonder what else I’ll find when I have more time?”

“You’re just a guppy in this pond. Sometimes hard decisions are required for the end result.” He gave a half-shrug, knowing he was in the power position.

“The ends justify the means? I thought you understood this is a family business. Every member of our staff has been here almost since the beginning. Your father knew that and treated people like family, not numbers.” She straightened in her seat, shoulders back as if she were prepared to fight to defend her staff right then and there.

“If my father was still in charge, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“Do you really believe that?” She countered in a soft voice.

This time, he frowned, suppressing a flicker of defensiveness. “That’s irrelevant. He’s not here and you are. And we have a mess on our hands. Once you took money from the league, you accepted the conditions. Now it’s time to pay up, in more ways than one.”

She sighed and leaned forward, one hand on her knee. “Fine, I agree. So what do we do now?”

“We need to figure that out.” He paused and studied her for a long moment. “And you need to decide which side you’re on.”

M
iranda closed the
office door behind her and heaved a sigh. She had spent the last three hours reviewing documents, reports, and financial statements with Lucas, and that was just the overview of everything. Now he wanted time alone with the data and individual meetings with each department head before he made any of his thoughts known. Although one thing was clear. The situation wasn’t good and it would take a lot more than some belt-tightening before the Knights were in the black. Most likely it would take a complete overhaul in team strategy to right the course, and Seamus was not going to be supportive of anything different than what he already did.

Her muscles were tight and stretched like a rubber band pulled between two opposing forces. How long before she snapped? It was just day one in a long process. She already felt battered and beaten. Despite her exhaustion, another emotion twanged along her nerves.

Lust.

His very presence in such close proximity teased her senses, reminding her of how long she had been without a date, or anything more physical. During the season, it could be challenging to find a partner, especially with the demanding schedule her father insisted his executives keep, but in the off-season, she often took time for herself, a small vacation, some personal time. And a little stress relief. But after being named president last year, she hadn’t felt quite right taking time off this year.

That was all it was. Long denied physical desires rearing their ugly heads, distracting her and causing her to fantasize about their new consultant and public enemy number one. So what if he looked amazing without his suit jacket? He was just younger and different than the doughboys she worked with on an everyday basis.

Not Cole Hammonds, a tiny voice reminded her. You were never tempted by him.

She snorted, earning a sharp glance from a man walking by. She greeted him with a low murmur and waited for him to pass, leaning against the wall, looking through her tablet as if occupied.

She should have never gone to his office, where he was in control. Her father would never have stood for it. She should have brought him to her office, set the boundaries and their roles. In her own space, she would be less inclined to be swayed by how sexy he had grown. She could have stayed focused.

She sharply inhaled, still smelling a residual scent of his musky aftershave. Then, shaking her head to clear it, she pushed off the wall. Her knees still a bit weak, she walked the several feet down the hallway to her own office. Stacia Kendall, the players’ PR lead, sat in one of the chairs chatting up Miranda’s assistant. She jumped up when she saw Miranda stride into the small waiting area.

Miranda paused at her assistant’s desk and gave her instructions to schedule meetings with each of the vice presidents for Lucas in the next few days. Stacia followed her into the office, a worried look on her face.

Miranda and Stacia had grown up together but were never really close friends. They ran in the same social circles, with Stacia’s father a powerful United States senator and Miranda’s father a shipping magnate. More often than not, their fathers were opposed on many issues, but then again, most people were on opposite sides of both men, so there was that. But Miranda became reacquainted with Stacia when she was hired to clean up Jason’s Friar’s image for the last three months of the season, during which time they fell in love and each found new roles with the Knights. Since then, Stacia had focused on the players while Miranda worked on overall team image and corporate connections, and the proximity rebuilt their friendship. Miranda was grateful to have a sounding board of someone who understood her situation.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I got stuck with the new consultant, Lucas Wainright.” Miranda sank into her chair, groaning at the relief of being off her feet. She began opening desk drawers, looking for something for her burgeoning headache.

“I heard Mr. Callahan wasn’t too happy.” A frown furrowed Stacia’s brow. She sat in one of the chairs and crossed one leg over the other and waited.

Miranda grabbed the bottle of aspirin and slammed the drawer. “That’s putting it mildly. Damn, I should probably go and update him.”

“I think he can wait a few more minutes. You look like you need a break.” Stacia reached across the desk and gripped Miranda’s hand in hers, providing the only comfort she really could.

Miranda shrugged and downed the aspirin with a swallow from her morning tea that had grown cold in the intervening hours. “I need a long vacation and stock in a pharmaceutical company. This is going to be absolute hell.”

“Lucas Wainright?” Stacia’s brow arched. “Is he related to the guy who used to own the team?”

Miranda grimaced. “Yeah, well, he’s the league’s representative now. But, yes, his father was principal owner before my father.”

Stacia straightened, expression carefully blank. “Well, that changes everything. How did that go?”

“Not good. Bottom line, we have no choice. Accepting a loan from the league, then being in a precarious financial position opens us up for the league to step in. There are precedents for the commissioner to step in and appoint leadership and taking over troubled franchises. Look at Los Angeles a few years ago.”

“Are we really in that bad of shape?”

Miranda sighed and settled back in her chair. “Yes. My father has always played information close to the chest. But we don’t have the money for top players.”

“We never did, honestly. The Knights are in a small market, not New York.”